


Beguile

by Ausp_ice



Series: Familiar Faces [1]
Category: Among Us (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Character Death, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Upgraded Connor | RK900, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: Oh,Connor thinks, staring at the black spiked tendril embedded in his chest.So this is how I die.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us), CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900
Series: Familiar Faces [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983035
Comments: 17
Kudos: 94





	Beguile

**Author's Note:**

> So, as soon as I read my first spicy Among Us fic I wanted to write an RK1700 Among Us AU. So here I am! I wrote it over my break, like the creativity addict I am.  
> This installment is SFW, but if/when I write more it's not going to stay that way HAHA  
> Anyone who reads my NSFW content has probably realized that I'm into *coughs* monsters and aliens and stuff
> 
> Beta'd by Lunar / [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken) and [Wolveria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria), thank you!
> 
> The setting is a fusion of Among Us and futuristic stuff that I like, bunch of headcanons swimming in my brain, spun together in my own take.

_ Oh,  _ Connor thinks, staring at the black spiked tendril embedded in his chest.  _ So this is how I die.  _

* * *

When Connor first meets them, they're standing awkwardly in front of a map of the ship. Not terribly unusual—the ship is huge, and there are hundreds of crewmembers. There's bound to be confusion. 

There's two of them: one in red, and one in black. When Connor calls out, "Hey!" the black one's hand jumps to the arm of the red one. 

Oops. "Sorry," Connor says, rubbing the back of his helmet. His own suit is white—basic, he knows, but he likes the clean color. "I'm Connor. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you lost?"

It's only been a week or so that they've been out in space—everyone's still figuring out how to get around and do their tasks, so he's not surprised. Connor's managed to figure it out fairly quickly, though, and—"I've been spending a lot of time exploring the ship," he says. "I think I know my way around pretty well. Maybe I can give you two a hand?"

The two crewmates exchange a look, and the red one shrugs. 

It's at this point that Connor starts thinking it's a little weird. That they aren't saying anything, for one. But who is he to judge? Maybe they're nervous. Black looks very nervous, anyways, in the way they cling to Red. Hmm.

Connor sidles closer to the map, scanning through it. "Do you know where you need to go?" he asks.

Red vaguely gestures to the entire ship and shrugs again. 

Which… probably isn't wrong. "Okay," Connor says slowly. "Do you not have your tablet with you?" 

Black shakes their head, while Red gives another shrug that somehow comes across as sheepish. Maybe they left it in their room? Or lost it. 

Well. "I can just show you around," Connor says. "If anything looks like what you need to do, just let me know?"

Red and Black exchange another glance, and then both nod. Red gestures toward Connor, as if to say,  _ Lead the way.  _

So Connor brings them all around the ship—to the cafeteria, to Admin, to Electrical, to the oxygen generators, the reactor, various other rooms. 

There's a huge atrium where the cafeteria is, with the glass roof and window showing the expanse of space. Some kind of fountain sits in the center, with huge curving shapes cascading water to the containment unit below. Cybera, the company that they all work for, certainly has a lot of money to spend. 

There are three floors that can access the atrium—the ground floor, with the cafeteria, as well as the two floors that overlook the area, a glass barrier keeping people from falling to the ground below. They're on the second floor when they pass through. "I wish I could climb that fountain," Connor confesses forlornly, "and just stare at the endless expanse of space."

Not that Connor can see their faces through their helmets, but he's pretty sure Red and Black give him funny looks. 

Connor brings them to Admin, too, and shows them how to swipe the card. It takes a few tries, and Connor swears that it usually doesn't take him this long. 

He thinks Red and Black are amused. 

He fixes a few wires in Electrical while he's there, showing his two tagalongs how to do it. Black nods sagely when Connor beams and shows them his perfectly soldered, very colorful wires—not that they can see his face. 

There are a lot of other crewmates milling about, and Connor eagerly waves to Hank—in yellow, with his son Cole tagging along—as well as Captain Fowler, also wearing black. Connor recognizes him by the captain hat. 

(He honestly finds it hilarious that people wear hats and such on their suits. But with so many people wearing the same colors, there's honestly a very practical reason.)

(Connor stuck a leaf sprout to the top of his helmet.)

Before he realizes it, it's time for dinner. He spent the entire "afternoon" showing them around, huh? Honestly, it was pretty fun. On their way back to the cafeteria, though, Connor passes by a window and catches sight of— 

"Guys!" he calls out excitedly, pressing his helmet to the window and flapping a hand towards Red and Black. "Look, look, a shooting star!"

He hears approaching footsteps behind him, and glances back to see the two of them standing right behind him. Black has their gaze turned up, and they lift a finger back towards the window. Connor turns to look, and sees—more. Tiny lights, falling towards the planet they just happened to be passing by. 

Connor lets out a pleased sigh, stepping back and sitting down, propping himself up on his arms. "Space is so neat," he says. 

There's a shift behind him, and he turns his head to see Red and Black looking at each other. They look back at Connor, and a strange chill runs down his spine. Some part of him realizes that no one else is here. Many of the other crewmates have gone to the cafeteria, and he's… alone, with these two strangers. 

Connor swallows, hopefully not noticeably. He pats the ground next to him. "Come on, watch with me?" 

Black approaches first, sitting down next to Connor. They fold their hands in their lap and turn their face to the sky. Connor relaxes slightly, only to tense again when Red plops themself down on the opposite side to him. 

He's not sure why he feels so nervous. Like there's an animal instinct telling him,  _ run.  _

"You know," Connor says, looking up to the sky. "I had fun today. It was nice to show you two around all the nooks and crannies of the ship." He looks down, sitting up and lacing his hands together. He pauses. "I've heard rumors—of ships disappearing, of crewmates dying mysteriously." He keeps his eyes on his hands. "But whatever the cause, Cybera has somehow managed to keep it under wraps. Still…" Connor looks back out the window again. "When I signed on, I kind of expected that I wouldn't come back. And that was… okay. Is okay.

"I don't know why I feel so nervous now," Connor mumbles. "You two seem nice enough. If kind of judgemental… I swear I'm not usually that bad at the admin swipe…"

Red shifts, and Connor squeezes his eyes shut, heart pounding. Only for a hand to land on his shoulder—Black's, he realizes, when he opens his eyes to look at them. They're looking at Red, he thinks, and they're shaking their head. But when Connor tries to turn around, there's a sharp pain at the back of his neck— 

The last thing he knows is being caught by Black. 

* * *

Connor wakes up. 

He did not expect to wake up. 

He's in the infirmary, he realizes, stripped down to his black undersuit. When he tries to sit up, he hisses at a pain in his hand. He lifts it up to see it wrapped up, stained with dried blood. 

"Hey, Connor," says a soft voice. 

"Simon?" Connor looks up, seeing the medical officer in his white suit. His helmet is off, revealing his concerned face.

Simon nods. "What do you remember?"

Connor shakes his head, frowning. He was… with Black and Red, and— 

He freezes. "What happened?" 

"Someone found you passed out on the floor on the way to the cafeteria, with that nasty gash on your hand. They wear a black suit, I think they said their name was Nines? They were worried about you."

Connor blinks. Blinks again. "They talked to you?"

"Yes?" Simon gives him a strange look. "They're waiting just outside if you want to see them." 

Connor blinks slowly. "Sure?" 

Simon steps out, and before long, Black—Nines? is with him. They have their hands folded together, a picture of nervousness that Connor can read despite the helmet.

"I'm just going to go upload your file, Connor," Simon says. "Nines, keep an eye on him for me, will you?" 

Nines nods. Simon leaves, and then—they're alone. 

"Nines?" Connor calls out.

Nines tenses. Nods. "Hello," they say, voice soft, filtered through their helmet. There's something odd about their voice, but Connor isn't quite sure what. 

More importantly—"So you  _ can  _ talk?"

Nines shrugs, gripping their hands together. There's an awkward silence, until they finally speak up again. "Sorry," they say. "Sorry, I didn't… I didn't want to hurt you."

They reach forward, towards Connor's injured hand—and then pull back. "Sorry," they whisper again. 

Despite the situation—Connor reaches forward with his uninjured hand, setting it on their arm. "It's okay," Connor says. 

They chuckle. "You're so nice. I didn't expect that. We didn't expect that…"

_ We.  _ Connor swallows. "Where's your friend?"

Nines pauses. "H… he? He's… somewhere else. He won't hurt you, I convinced him—"

Connor swears he can hear an audible clack when they snap their mouth shut, just as Simon reenters the room. "Hey," Simon calls out. "Connor, how's your hand?"

Connor blinks, lifting his right hand. His dominant hand, unfortunately, and he winces when he tries to flex it. "I don't think I'll be of much use for a while," Connor confesses. 

"Thought so," Simon grimaces. "Hmm. Nines?" Nines straightens upon hearing their name. "How would you feel about accompanying Connor for any tasks he might have? Just until his hand heals." 

Nines is already nodding before Simon is finished talking. "Yes, of course. I wouldn't mind at all."

"Don't I get any say in this?" Connor asks, a wry smile on his face. 

Simon raises an eyebrow. "The two of you seem to know each other, I thought it wouldn't be an issue."

Connor looks at Nines. And then back at Simon. "Nah," he says. "I'm just pulling your leg, I don't mind at all."

"Great," Simon says, and that's that. 

* * *

Having Nines accompanying him throughout the day is actually pretty nice. There's a tension of things unsaid between them, but besides that, they're honestly very pleasant company. Even after Connor's hand heals, they continue to stick together.

They don't talk much about themself. They never remove their helmet, though they sometimes slightly lift the visor to eat during mealtimes. They don't even have their own tablet, at least not for a while, and Connor has no idea what they do during the sleep cycles. 

(Different groups have different sleep cycles so that there's always a full crew manning the ship at all times, but Connor hasn't figured out which one Nines is in. If they're in one at all.)

They seem content to let Connor talk about himself, though. About his life on Earth. About the things he's hoping to see during the exploration. 

Nines tilts their head when Connor wonders aloud if they'll meet any aliens. Hmm. 

They're cleaning out the oxygen generators when the emergency meeting alarm blares throughout the ship. There's a rush to the atrium, people stumbling out of their rooms and away from whatever tasks they're doing to gather in the cafeteria. 

The area is a hubbub of uneasy murmurs, but later, Connor will always remember the way Echo and Ripple called out, "Traci? Traci! Where are you?"

The three of them were a polyamorous group, and Connor thought they were very cute, but— 

"Quiet!" Captain Fowler's voice cuts through the noise. He stands above them all, on the second floor balcony overlooking them. "Everyone," he says. "Traci Wright's remains were found in Electrical." 

And that is the moment everything changed. 

Captain Fowler explains to them the existence of an alien race that Cybera refers to as the "Impostors"—shapeshifters who invade ships and research bases to kill everyone and destroy everything. 

There was practically a riot, of course. People were yelling—why weren't they told, why only now? Why only after someone has died? 

Fowler says something about a contract, need-to-know basis, not every ship is attacked. But theirs has been, and now they must prepare. Everyone is to travel in groups of at least two people, at most four. Everyone's tablet has a "report" button, and if they find any bodies, they are to report them immediately. 

The entire time, Nines holds Connor's hand tightly. And he can't help but let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, drowned by the noise in the atrium. So that's why Nines had such a reaction when Connor wondered if he'd meet any aliens. 

"Are you going to tell?" Nines asks, later, when they're alone. 

"I…" Connor starts. "I don't know. What… What is he to you?"

"He's my sibling," Nines says. "He's always been there for me…"

And Connor says nothing. 

There's a moment of silence to honor Traci, but for most of the crew, she, Echo, and Ripple were little more than coworkers. Even Connor only knew them casually from conversations in the cafeteria—but it's enough for him to visit them in their room to pay his respects. To be a shoulder to cry on, as it were.

By the second death—Shaolin, Connor thinks, and regrets he never got to know him—people start throwing accusations. The body was found in Security; he had been killed while Ortiz, his partner, was checking the cameras. 

Ortiz was thrown out the airlock. 

(To be honest, he was kind of a jerk. Still…)

It feels surreal. Connor knows. He knows who's doing this, he's seen the red-clad Impostor watching him from his own group. Connor could stop it all, but… but… Nines squeezes his hand, shaking, and he can't bring himself to say anything. 

When Connor asks them  _ why  _ one day, they only tense and turn away. 

Nines seems more tired lately, too, and Connor is starting to get worried. They usually meet in the atrium whenever Connor wakes up, as other groups do, but it takes longer and longer for them to show up, and they move slowly. As weeks pass, and more bodies show up, as more people are thrown out of the airlock, as tension mounts, Nines slowly becomes more lethargic. 

One day, they don't show up after half an hour, and Connor, against his better judgement, goes looking for them with only half a mind to mumble to Hank that he's heading out. 

He finds them in a secluded corner of the ship, some storage room. Them as in both of them—Nines and their sibling, who Connor can see through a crack in the door, standing over Nines's hunched form. "Why haven't you killed anyone yet?" Red hisses, and a chill runs down Connor's spine. "It doesn't even have to be  _ him,  _ since you're so  _ attached.  _ Look at you. You're so weak.  _ Starving." _

"I'm fine, Sixty," Nines insists, and oh, that must be his name. "The human food is… enough."

Connor can agree that they really don't look fine.

"Like hell." Sixty grabs Nines by the shoulder. "You're going to get yourself killed, you're going to get  _ us  _ killed."

"Do we  _ have _ to do this?" Nines asks meekly. 

"You know what they'll do if we let them arrive."

Silence.

"Thought so." A pause. "If you won't kill anyone, I'll do it for you. Starting with  _ him."  _

Nines's head snaps up. "No—!" He cuts himself off. "No," he says, quieter. "Please don't." 

"Then get to it." Sixty turns around and heads for… a vent? He kicks open the grating, and his form twists and nearly liquifies before slipping into the opening and shutting the vent behind him. 

Huh. So  _ that's  _ how he gets away so easily. 

Nines is hunched over themself, hands pressed to their helmet. Connor's heart aches for them, and he—he steps forward, calls out. "Nines?"

They snap their head to Connor. "Connor," they say, fear in their voice. "Did—did you—?"

"I saw," Connor says. He walks forward without hesitation and pulls Nines into his arms. "It's okay," he murmurs. "It's okay."

"It really isn't," Nines mumbles. Their hands skitter over Connor's back, hesitant, before gaining surety and squeezing. "I'm scared… I don't want to hurt any of you… I don't want us to be hurt."

Connor closes his eyes, squeezing tighter. "You haven't killed anyone, right? You were almost always with me."

Nines hesitates. Nods. "Sixty will kill you if I don't, though."

Connor lets out a breath. "Why do you have to? When Sixty said, 'you know what they'll do,' what did he mean?"

"You steal from us," comes a voice from behind Connor, and he whips his head around to see Sixty standing by the vent. Connor didn't even hear him. "You take our land and food and destroy our nests for your greed."

What? "What?" Connor repeats, out loud.

"Nines," Sixty says. "Step aside. You're too attached."

Nines stiffens. "Sixty, we don't have to do this—"

"Shut  _ up,"  _ he says, and his form ripples. "They've killed so many of us, we can't hesitate, not now! You're starving yourself and I will not have it." 

Connor's breath hitches. 

"Sixty, please—"

"No! Enough is enough!" 

There's a blur, and Nines is shoved away, and— 

_ Oh,  _ Connor thinks, staring at the black spiked tendril embedded in his chest.  _ So this is how I die.  _

The tendril pulls itself out of him, accompanied by a spray of blood. He has a moment to watch the tendril disappear in a maw where Sixty's torso should be before the world spins, and he falls. 

"No!" He's caught, but he thinks he's in shock. It doesn't even hurt, despite the red blooming across the white of his suit. He touches the wound, and his hands come away bloody.

He blinks. He must lose time, because he's cradled in Nines's arms, looking at their helmet. He reaches up, smearing blood on the glass. "C… can I… can I see you?"

Connor blinks again, and then Nines's helmet is off, revealing—a face just like his, but with piercing icy eyes. Their brows are furrowed, face twisted with worry. Connor lets out a chuckle, putting both bloody hands on their face, exploring the planes with his fingers. "You l-look just like me."

"Nah.  _ I  _ look just like you." Sixty crouches next to Connor, taking off his helmet to reveal his own face, which really is identical. "I was going to replace you entirely. Kill you and take your place. Nines convinced me not to. They're so softhearted… can't even get their own fucking face." 

"Oh," Connor breathes out. He coughs wetly, and that really does not seem like a good sign. Oh well. "Is it true?" he asks Nines. "Are we hurting your race? Your planet…?"

Nines bites his lip, and then nods. 

Connor closes his eyes, and Nines's grip tightens. Connor opens his eyes again. "Are y-you really… starving yourself?" 

Nines blinks. They glance away, glance back. "I—no, I…"

"They are," Sixty says.

"I'm not! I'm eating, I just…"

"Our kind needs fresh organic material to be healthy," Sixty says flatly. "We usually hunt the creatures on our planet, but they've become scarce."

"Oh," Connor breathes out. "Nines?"

They must see it in his face, because they start shaking their head. "No. No."

"It's okay," Connor mumbles. "If I'm going to die…"

"No," Nines repeats, squeezing their eyes shut. Tears slip out of their eyes. "I don't want to."

"Shh…" Connor soothes. He brings a bloodied hand to Nines's mouth, smearing blood on their lips. They shake their head, but their body seems to betray them as a black forked tongue darts out and licks their lips. And then—their sclera bleed black, they sob and grab Connor's hand, pressing their tongue against his fingers. Connor closes his eyes as Nines licks him clean, and then—warmth wraps around his fingers, sharp points grazing against his skin as Nines sucks the blood off of them. 

Connor's breath hitches, and Nines turns their eyes to his face. Their pupils are glowing white now, their teeth razor sharp. They lift their hands to frame his face, and lean in close—to lick a stripe up from the corner of his mouth, where blood has spilled out of it. 

There's a tearing sound, and he glances down to see that Nines's body has shifted into a form with black tentacles and sharp teeth, ripping open his suit around the wound. A wet tendril slides against his injury, as if licking up the blood, and Connor gives a startled gasp as it makes pain shoot through his body. His head spins, and it's all he can do to lift his arms up and wrap them around the back of Nines's neck. 

"I'm sorry," he hears faintly, voice distorted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"'s okay," Connor mumbles against Nines's lips. "It's… okay." And he's not sure what possesses him to do so, but he pulls Nines closer, pulls them together, slotting their lips against each other.

Everything fades away.

* * *

Connor wakes up in the infirmary. 

He stares at the ceiling for a solid minute, listening to the steady beeping of the ECG. 

He was  _ sure _ he wouldn't wake up this time. And yet… 

"Connor? Connor, you're awake!" 

There's a flurry of activity, but the first thing Connor asks is, "Wh-where's Nines?" He tries to sit up, only for his head to spin horribly. Hands brace him, laying him back down. 

"Easy, Connor," a gruff, familiar voice says.

"Hank…?"

"Yeah, it's me, kid." 

"He was the one who found you," the voice Connor now recognizes as Simon says. "It looked bad, but he got you to the medbay pretty quickly. It's… miraculous, really, how you've healed."

Connor opens his eyes to see Hank bent over him, brows furrowed. "Your suit was torn open and blood was everywhere," he says. "Stab wound in your chest, a lot like… the other victims." He pauses. "You were also covered in… some kind of other fluid," Hank continues. "Based on what Simon's found…"

"It's probably what made you heal so fast."

Oh. Interesting. 

Connor closes his eyes, hums, and opens them again. "Where's Nines…? Are they okay?"

Hank glances at Simon. "They're fine," Simon answers quickly. "They keep coming by to hover by the medbay, you know. Asking after you."

"Can I see them…?" Connor asks. 

Simon hesitates, but—"Yes. Of course."

Connor hums, closing his eyes. He must fall asleep, because he next wakes up with Nines holding his hand. Their helmet is back on. 

"Nines," Connor mumbles, and their head shoots up. 

"Connor!" They squeeze his hand tightly. "You're okay, you're alive, thank goodness." They sound like they're about to cry. 

"Hey," Connor says. "Are you okay?"

They snort. "That's what I should be asking you." But they do glance around before leaning in and saying, "I am better. Your blood, it was… helpful. Very helpful. I—I noticed you healing before I actually started to—" they clip their voice short. 

_ Eat you,  _ Connor figures. 

"I'm so glad," they say, and sniff.

And Connor—reaches up. Pulls Nines down into a hug. They cling to him, shaking slightly. "I'm okay," Connor whispers. "And I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," Nines whispers. 

And maybe—maybe things will turn out alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> You know, Lunar said that the scene where Nines is about to eat Connor was a bit over the top in suggestive undertones... but I'm just: let me sin........ LET ME SIIIIIIIIIIIIIN  
> I was allowed to sin.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Also, Sixty being Red and the Impostor is both a convenient coincidence and somewhat intentional, since I associate red with him dsjkfh
> 
> Art is posted here: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice/status/1319750806317355008?s=20)
> 
> Check me out on social media: [](https://www.deviantart.com/ausp-ice) | [](https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com) | [](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice) / [NSFW](https://twitter.com/Au_spice) | [](https://www.instagram.com/ausp.icium)
> 
> I'm also in [Detroit: New ERA](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm) server! I have my own channel if you'd like to yell at me or just talk.


End file.
